Through the Veil
by shadowkat678
Summary: It felt like a dream, and as he arched high into the air, Harry was the only one he could see, his face wide in shock as his Godfather tumbled into the veil. Sirius had failed. He promised to protect him, and Sirius had failed... For The Angst Galore Challenge and The Terry Pratchett Quote Challenge. Winner of the second.


**"Through the Veil"**

**By: Shadowkat**

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**Disclaimer: I don't own this franchise.**

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_'...he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as through in a high wind, then fell back in place.' - OotP_

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He felt like he was floating, weightless, suspended in time as that one moment balanced between life and death stretched out into eternity. It felt like a dream, and as he arched high into the air, Harry was the only one he could see, his face wide in shock as his Godfather tumbled into the veil. Sirius had failed. He promised to protect him, and Sirius had failed...

_'I'm so sorry..._'

One last sad smile and Sirius was gone, never hearing the insane laughter of his cousin, nor the heart wrenching screaming from his best friend and godson, that instantly followed his departure.

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First, it was only darkness, but then there was light.

Peace, when was the last time he felt so peaceful? Sirius couldn't quite remember. All he knew was that it had been a very, very long time. Yet, something about it was wrong.

Sirius' gray eyes shot open as the memories crashed over him. The battle, Bellatrix, the Order, Harry. He remembered the Department of Mysteries, the bright neon hexes shooting through the air. He'd been hit, then he was falling, and then there was…nothing. No, he thought. There was something else, something he should know, but couldn't remember.

A sharp feeling of panic rose in his mind and he squeezed his eyes closed, mentally commanding himself to remain calm. It was just like waking up from another nightmare, he couldn't panic, all he had to do was remember to stay in control. Sirius took a shaky breath. A minute passed, then two as he felt himself relax. He reopened his eyes, quickly taking stock of his surroundings.

He was in a bed, its sheets soft beneath his shaking fingers, but with the polite coldness of a stranger, as if no one else had ever slept in it before. The small room around him was simple in style, with soft cream colored walls and a single window, placed within arms length above him that allowed sunlight to stream through and make a bright patch on the polished wooden floor. He frowned. Too small to break through. The only other possible exit was a wooden door on the opposite side of the room.

There was hardly any decoration with the exception of the bed he sat in, a rickety chair over beside the door, and a full body mirror over in the corner. Nothing to use as a weapon, nothing to bust out with, and, when he checked his robe pockets, he found what he already suspected. Sirius was wandless.

_'Think, you have to find out what happened, what's going on, and then...then you can get out.'_

Sirius pushed himself off the bed, shivering slightly as his bare feet touched the ground, and made his way to the door. He reached for the knob and quickly recoiled, feeling the icy burn before his skin ever made contact. It had to be charmed...

Next, he tried standing on the bed and peeking out the window in hopes of catching a glimpse of wherever he might be, but the light was too bright and Sirius instantly sat back down, abandoning the idea for the present moment. Later on he might be able to get a hint of where he was, but now, with the glare in his eyes, he was more likely to go blind.

His gaze drifted to the mirror. From the angle he was at, all he saw was the opposite side of the room reflected inside it. On a sudden impulse, Sirius pushed himself back off the bed and curiously walked to the reflective sheet of glass, then he froze.

Sirius' mouth dropped open in shock. It was him, but at the same time it wasn't. He reached out a hand and let it rest against mirror's cool surface, his reflection matching his movement so that their fingertips were touching. All the pain, all the fear, and all anger seemed gone from his features. It was like Sirius imagined his face would have appeared had he never been to Azkaban, had never gone through the hell that had been his life for all those years. He looked younger, the lines that once marked his skin gone. He looked alive again.

He shivered, noticing the one thing that hadn't changed at all. Although the physical scars were gone, the thirty-six years of life he'd endured still shone clearly in his stormy eyes, in the weathered irises that didn't seem to belong with the rest of his body. Was that image really him, or was it some kind of magic? Yet, as he brought his hand from the mirror to his face, he knew that it was real.

"What's happened to me?" The wizard put a hand out to steady himself against the wall as the ground seemed to start swimming under him. "What the bloody hell did I fall into?"

It was only a whisper, but the question filled the room like a scream.

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It could have been minutes, or hours, or days, even weeks, but with no way to tell time, it simply blended together. For some reason, he never felt tired or hungry. No matter how long he watched, the bright patch of light flooding the floor stayed the same, no matter how long he waited for the time he could finally look out and see where, or what, he'd found himself tumbling into.

In that all time spent as he sat on the bed, or in front of the mirror, or trying in vain to open the room's locked door without receiving a burn on his hands, he finally had found what had unnerved him before.

His heart wasn't beating. Yet, he was still breathing, still thinking, still feeling. Every second he spent in the strange room brought more questions then answers. Just when he thought he'd survived Azkaban just to go insane in that room, he came.

Sirius sat on the bed, his head cradled in his hands and mind lost in past memories, when the door slowly eased open.

"Padfoot?" Sirius' eyes shot open and his head slowly rose from his hands, his mind not comprehending what his eyes told him to be true. The figure sent him a cocky grin. "Well, aren't you going to say hello to your best mate?"

"James?" His eyes widened at the familiar face, the impish tone of voice, the mischievous gleam of hazel eyes. Then, just as quickly, the astonishment gave way to anger. It was a trick, a sick trick! James was dead. How dare whoever locked him in that room taunt him like that!

There was no calm now. Sirius' fists balled at his sides and he rose, charging towards the other man and ramming him against the wall so hard he heard his back crack. His face was twisted in anger. "How dare you...first you lock me in here and now you play some dress up game! He's dead, James is dead! I swear if you don't tell me what's going on I'll bloody kill you right here!"

Their faces were inches apart, and compared to Sirius, James' was calm. "You're right about one thing. I am dead."

"Stop talking in riddles!" Sirius snarled and pressed harder, his anger almost overcoming any rational thought process left. The other man didn't so much as wince at the increased pressure against his chest.

"I'm not," he answered, calmly. "Sirius, you're dead." It hit him like a blow, and Sirius slowly removed his shaking hands from his friend, for once it all clicked into place he was sure it was indeed James. He leaned against the wall for support, a look of mixed shock, horror, and unwanted understanding flashing across his face, then dropped slowly to the floor.

"I'm not dead...I can't be dead. I didn't go through twelve years of hell just to come back to die." Yet, it was the only thing that made sense, the only thing that gave an explanation, but damn if he still wasn't searching for a way to deny it! Being shut up in his childhood house suddenly wasn't seeming like such a raw deal.

He suddenly felt tired, numb, the anger and shock leaving him feeling empty and his body seeming heavier than ever before. There were so many things, so many things he never told anyone, and too many things he'd left undone. Peter was still out there, Harry and Remus were alone, and people still thought he was a murderer...

_'I never even had the chance to say goodbye.'_

Despite his efforts, tears slid down his face. James slowly sat down next to him, looking away and pretending not to notice. How do you even cry when you're dead? Merlin, he hated crying.

After a few minutes, he'd regained control and wiped at his face, grateful that James didn't say anything. With red eyes, he looked closer at his friend. He was the same, except one thing he didn't notice in his initial shock. "Prongs, you don't have your glasses..."

James just gave a small smile, as if this was a perfectly normal question to ask after being told your dead. "Well, you don't really need them here, or wands either, for that matter. That's something I definitely miss. The wand part, not so much the glasses."

Despite himself, and still utterly aware of his puffy eyes, Sirius felt a small smile tug at his lips. It was a little, pathetic smile, but it was still there. Even though he couldn't see how it managed to be, in his present situation.

Suddenly feeling awkward, he tried to think of something else to ask.

"Where's Lily?" It was a weak opener, but James only waved his hands in an offhand gesture and again pretended not to notice.

"Waiting back home, keeping your brother company." Sirius started, his gray eyes widening.

"Regulus? He's...he's here?" He remembered his brother, before they'd drifted apart, and the nights Regulus would run into his room crying during a thunderstorm when he was little. That face rose in his mind, and a longing Sirius had denied for years churned within him.

James nodded, smiling sadly.

"I forgot you didn't know about what he did...sounded just like something you would do. I think you'll be proud." Sirius tensed as James sat a firm hand on his shoulder, his gaze sympathetic "I know it's a lot to take in. Trust me, I tried breaking my dad's neck when he showed up for me. I'm honestly surprised you're handling it this well."

Sirius let out a dry laugh, clasping his hands together to try and stop the shaking. "Yeah, a lot to take in, handling things well. Feels like a bit of an understatement, to tell you the truth." He shook his head, "James, I don't want to die yet. I'm not afraid of it, but..." He trailed off, mentally cursing himself for how small his voice sounded.

But what? This wasn't how he wanted to go out? It was too soon? He didn't want to be beat by a ruddy curtain?

"Death has a way of coming at the worst time, doesn't it? One minute you're there, your whole life ahead, and then the next you're gone." A hint of sadness had crept into James' voice, and underneath, a touch of anger. James and Lily were hardly more than kids when it happened, twenty-one years old. They all were. The couple were never able to watch their son grow up, never had a chance for many things. Even being in Azkaban twelve years, at least he'd had a short time with Harry. They'd all been cheated in this.

"Prongs-"James just shook his head sadly.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not just here to catch up, not completely. When you die, they send someone you know, to make it easier. This," He gestured around at the space. "It's only a waiting room, before you go any farther there's a choice. I think you already know what it is."

Sirius grinned bitterly. "I could go back as a ghost, but then I'd have to stay there and couldn't come back. That's it, right?"

He felt James squeeze his shoulder. "If you stay here you'll see them again, you know."

"I know."

Yet, what will happen in the meantime? His hands clenched in his lap, knuckles turning white, and he stared down at them as if the answer had been sketched into his skin. Sirius looked up at his friend, looked into the eyes that always saw right through him. The choice shouldn't be so hard, but the reckless part of him wouldn't let go of the thought of life, of Harry.

The, he thought about just how long he'd waited for this day, to see James and Lily again. He thought of what he heard from the ghosts at Hogwarts when he was younger, and he knew there was no other choice. He couldn't end up alone again. Half-life was worse than none at all, and he couldn't stand any more regrets. He closed his eyes, and when he reopened them his decision was made.

_'I'm sorry, Harry...'_

"I'll stay." As soon as the words left his mouth he knew it was all he could do, even if his godson ended up hating him for it.

James grinned, rising holding out his hand to help the other man to his feet. Sirius took it and, before he knew what happened, was pulled into his friend's embrace. Again, he wandered at the strangeness of the experience, of feeling the warmth of his friend's arms around him when his physical body should be cold...but in that moment, none of it mattered. All he cared about was that all the pain was finally over.

"Sirius, I've missed you...you have no idea how much I wish I'd been there." They broke apart, tears shining in both sets of eyes. For once, Sirius didn't feel ashamed of them, and he let out a laugh.

"James Potter, you wouldn't believe the amount of trouble your son has gotten into. He's almost as bad as we were!" James' hazel eyes gleamed, and Sirius knew he made the right call. But his chest tightened as he thought of all was left, and of all Harry still had to face. James grinned.

"I guess he's my son after all, are you ready?" Sirius nodded, swiping at his eyes.

In the end it's the smallest of things you remember the most, as if everything else simply ceases to exist. Our lives are made in the smallest of hours and the tiniest of wonders. You never see it at the time...but you remember them. You remember how it feels to laugh and to smile, the cold wind blowing across your face and ripping at your clothing, the summer rain hitting your skin in warm splashes, the sun warming your body on a spring day. It's as if time falls away, and you're left standing frozen in those moments, those memories.

Sirius was robbed of so many of those memories, but he held tight to the ones he had. He remembered holding a tiny baby Harry in his arms as the Marauders crowded the hospital room the day he'd been born. He remembered the afterhour outings with his friends at school. He remembered all of it, all the things he hadn't been able to think of for twelve long years, all the moments he took for granted. All the things from life that had so suddenly been ripped from his grasp. It is often said that before you die your life passes before your eyes. It is in fact true. It's called living. You can't go back, but that doesn't mean, even after death, there's no more moving forward. One day, they'd all join him again, but until then he'd wait.

"Actually...I think I am." Grinning, the two reunited friends opened the door and, together, stepped side by side into the next great adventure. "Just wait till you hear about the twins. The Marauders will definitely need to expand!"

"Sounds like it. Too bad I didn't contribute to all the mischief. Just think how big a mess that would have made!" Sirius laughed as white light encased him.

In the meantime, there was a lot of catching up to do...

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**A/N: I know I'm taking a while with chapter three of my Founders story, really sorry about that. There were more issues, and prom is in two weeks, so I was being dragged around all spring break for that. We also got more homework and projects when we got back, so that's eaten up my time. Thought I'd give you guys this to read until I get my next chapter up...trust me, it's going to be worth the wait. Let's just say, conflicts, bonding, practice sword fighting. Lots of things you shouldn't miss.**


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